What McKay Wants
by LdyAnne
Summary: John has something Rodney wants. Preslashish.


It had been a long day and really all John wanted was to take a long shower and go to bed and not think about the Wraith or people dying for just a few hours. But as usual, his brain refused to shut down and he tossed and turned in the bed, sleep not even a possibility.

Finally he got up and put on the robe he'd just taken off. He asked Atlantis to bring the lights up a bit and he pulled out his copy of War and Peace hoping that a page or two of that would be enough to induce sleep.

He was on his second page when his door slid open and Rodney McKay bounded in.

Sheppard scowled up at him, "McKay, haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"Well, yes, Colonel," he said, "But that's for unimportant people who.." he blinked. "What are you wearing?"

John looked down at himself trying to figure out what had caught McKay's attention. The bathrobe pretty much covered the "Pilots do it on the fly" t-shirt and the boxers. As far as he could tell there was nothing untoward showing, nothing that should have caused the constipated look that McKay was currently sporting.

"What?" John finally asked, closing his book.

"Is that… a bathrobe?" McKay asked in disbelief.

"Why, yes, Rodney, it is. I am astounded at your powers of observation."

"But, but, but, what if there was a sudden Wraith attack? What if you didn't have time to dress properly? You couldn't go out in the halls like… like… that."

"Like what?" John put the book down and crossed his arms on his chest. This should be good.

"With the hairy legs and the terry cloth and the belt. I mean, really, how are your men going to respect you looking like that?" he waved a hand up and down to emphasize his point.

John moved his crossed his arms to behind his head and leaned back the better to show off his robe, "Why I don't know, McKay. Hopefully we'll never have to find out."

Rodney shifted from one foot to the other. Finally he said, "You should give it to me."

"I beg your pardon?" John shook his head thinking maybe there was something in his ears that was interfering with his hearing. "Because I thought you said I should give it to you."

"Yes, you should." Rodney crossed his arms and glared at Sheppard. "Because I'm a scientist and no one would think a thing about it if I were running around the halls in blue terrycloth."

"Oh, that's such a compelling argument."

Rodney blinked hopefully, "Really?"

"No." John picked up his book and opened it back up. "Now get out, I'm trying to sleep."

Rodney frowned at him sitting up with his book open on his lap, "It doesn't look like you're trying to sleep."

"Appearances can be deceiving. Now get out."

"Are you sure you won't give me your robe?" Rodney tried for the wheedling tone which had never worked before and it didn't work this time. "Please?"

Wow, for whatever reason he really wanted the robe, it made John all the more determined not to give it to him.

"No."

Rodney thrust out his chin in that way he had of trying not to look hurt and not succeeding at all, and said, "Fine." He stomped from the room, the door swishing extra loudly behind him.

Satisfied at his victory, John went back to his book.

Everything was fine for a few pages, but then he began to hear things. There were creeks that he wasn't sure he'd ever heard before. He'd heard a lot of noises from Atlantis, humming and a persistent whisper in the back of his mind, sure, but never creeks. He dismissed it as his imagination and went back to his book, but then he thought he heard footsteps in the hall, footsteps that paused outside his door along with a flurry of whispers and then they moved on.

Sure he knew that McKay could be vindictive. It was legendary the things he'd done to people that had incurred his wrath. But surely he wasn't going to get pissy because John wouldn't give up his robe?

He settled back to his book, but he started to remember the stories: cold showers, blaring classical music in the middle of the night, alternating arctic and tropic temperatures in quarters that went on for days, people waking up to shaved heads. Running a shaky hand through his own hair, John wondered just how badly McKay wanted the robe. When he wanted something he could be pretty determined. It was usually better just to capitulate early, casualties were minimized that way.

John sat there in his bed listening intently and there was nothing. Atlantis was quiet around him. He lay back determined to not give in. He would not be intimidated into giving away his robe, he was the military leader of Atlantis, damn it, he was not giving up his bathrobe.

Then he thought about all the times McKay had saved their collective asses and all the time he'd saved John Sheppard's own personal ass and it seemed kind of selfish to not want to give him the robe. It wasn't like he couldn't get another if he really wanted.

Finally, muttering in disgust, John got out of the bed and stripped out of the robe. He pulled on sweat pants and shrugged on a jacket because he didn't intend to walk the halls of Atlantis in basically his underwear. Then he marched down the three doors and rapped loudly on McKay's door, because he wasn't rude enough to open someone else's door when they might be asleep.

Rodney opened the door, in his t-shirt and boxers, and really John was doing the people of Atlantis a favor because no one needed to see those knobby knees. He thrust the robe at McKay.

"Here," he said shortly.

"What?" Rodney looked down at the robe in his hands and a pleased smile broke out on his face. "Why… Colonel, you don't need to do this." But already Rodney was putting the robe on and John had to admit the blue terrycloth looked good on him.

"No," John said shortly, "but I did anyway. Good night."

"Thank you," Rodney called out as John returned to his room.

John went back to bed and pulled the covers up to his chin and finally found the sleep he'd been looking for. And if he dreamed about Rodney McKay in a blue terrycloth bathrobe, well that was no one's business but his own.

* * *

A/N: With thanks to my beta, Chocolatephysicist. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

Written for International Fuzzy Bathrobe Day on LJ. Long live the fuzzy bathrobe ;-)


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